The Box
by KristinaRassvet
Summary: Bobby asks Dean to do a simple task: watch a cardboard box.  How hard could it be?  Well, it is Dean we're talking about… A short, three chapter ficlet.
1. Chapter 1

"**The Box"**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Summary: Bobby asks Dean to do a simple task: watch a cardboard box. How hard could it be? Well, it is Dean we're talking about… A short, three chapter ficlet.**

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><p>Dean yawned easing back onto the tie-dyed bed. Sam was researching their latest case at the local library. Bobby was running an 'errand.' "Finally some peace and quiet. No demons, no ghosts, no Bob—"<p>

"Get over here and open the door!" The command came from outside and as much as Dean wanted to ignore it, he couldn't. Well, he could, but he would pay for it dearly later. Bobby was not one to be trifled with. Heaving himself off of the bed, accompanied by a frustrated squeak of the mattress, Dean crossed the brightly colored room to open the lime green door. He was met with the sight of Bobby, decked out in full flannel carrying a good-sized cardboard box. Dean stood aside to let the older man in. "Where's the Jolly Green Giant?" Bobby asked when a quick look around deemed that Sam was nowhere to be found.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Researching. You know how much he loves that." Dean glanced at the box as Bobby put it gingerly onto the counter. He couldn't resist—He just had to. "I take it Gwyneth Paltrow's head is not in the box?"

Bobby, seeming to be in a hurry, said quickly, "Nope. But I need you to watch it."

"Why? Is it gonna disappear?" Dean chuckled.

"No, you idjit!" Bobby threw the door open, not bothering to look back as he called out, "Do **not** touch it. Just watch it!"

Before Dean could say another word, Bobby had fired up his worse-for-wear thunderbird and was pealing out of the parking lot.

Retreating back into the hotel room, Dean went straight to the box. For a while, he just stared at it, wondering almost absently what was inside…Well, he knew it wasn't a head…or at least not Gwyneth Paltrow's. Taking out the EMF detector just in case, Dean scanned the air around the box. Nothing. Not even a blip… Maybe if he just shook it, just a little…

But when Dean went to reach for the box, it was gone. Frowning, Dean found that the box was a few feet to the left. Odd.

Chalking it up to a simple mistake, Dean reached for the box again. For the second time, all that the elder Winchester brother grasped was air. Narrowing his eyes at the box, which was now a few _more_ feet to the left, Dean asked no one in particular, "What the hell?"

"Alright then…" Dean took a deep breath, closing his eyes and counting to three. On the count of three, his eyes flew open, going directly to where the box—had been? There was nothing. Dean ran his hands over the marble countertop, searching for any sign of the box. Nothing. NOTHING.

"Well this is just nutty!" Dean continued to search the countertop; all that he could find was a smell. It was sweet, sickly sweet, like burnt cotton candy…

His eyes raked the room as he spun around, desperate for any sign of the box. Had it been a dream? Had he hallucinated Bobby bringing the box in? Why did he have to watch the damn thing anyways? _It was just a freaking box._

Just a freaking box that was sitting at the foot of his bed. Letting out a cry of frustration, Dean went for his phone instead of the box this time, keeping an eye on the offensive brown object the entire time that he held the phone to his ear. Dean decided to try Bobby first. It was his box that was driving him crazy, so if Dean was going to bitch to anybody, it was going to be to Bobby. Well, at least at first.

No answer.

"Crap." Dean muttered, taking a step back so that he was leaning on the counter. He tried his brother next. Sammy probably had his nose in a book. Typical.

There was a pause as Sam answered, "Dean?"

"Sammy! Thank God!"

Confused, Sam shut the dusty old copy of Grainger Family Heritage and gave his older brother his full attention. "What is it?"

"It's this freaking box! I think—You know what? I don't even know what I think! Just—Just get back to the motel. We have a—" Dean narrowed his eyes at the box, "—situation."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Look." Dean ran a frustrated hand through his hair, "Bobby brought me a box to baby sit. I don't know what's in it, but it's _pure evil_! And it's driving me CRAZY!"

Getting to his feet and swinging his backpack onto his shoulder, Sam asked, "Are you sure?"

"As sure as I'm gonna get. If the freaking thing would sit still for five seconds, I would throw a handful of salt on it! But it keeps moving!" Dean's eyes darted to the shotgun shells full of salt that were sitting on the nearby table. As soon as he looked back to the bed, the box was gone. "You've got to be freaking kidding me!"

Sam didn't know what to think; except for he needed to get back to his brother. Now. "Right…Just don't move. I'll be there in five minutes." With a sigh, Sam shoved his way out of the front door and out to the Impala. This was going to be a long day…

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><p><strong>R&amp;R please.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**"The Box"**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Summary: Bobby asks Dean to do a simple task: watch a cardboard box. How hard could it be? Well, it is Dean we're talking about… A short, three chapter ficlet.**

**A/N: Great response for this story (my first fanfic) so far! Thanks readers!**

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><p>Sam pulled up outside of their motel room and had just turned off the ignition when the bright green door flew open and his older brother came running out. Before Sam could react, Dean had thrown open the passenger door and jumped into the car, practically hyperventilating.<p>

Eyebrows raised, Sam gave his brother an odd look before asking the inevitable question. "What's going on?"

Dean spoke his next word(s) without bothering to take a breath, "Bobby brought me this box and now I think I'm going crazy—" His words came out like mush.

Realizing that his brother was being serious, Sam cleared his throat, shifting in his seat after he cut Dean off, "First of all, I didn't understand any of that. Second, start over. Slowly."

Taking a few deep breaths, Dean managed to get himself to rights to explain what was happening, "Okay." He cleared his throat, "Bobby came by a while ago and asked me to watch this box..."

"Alright." Sam nodded, "So, what does this box look like?"

"The spawn of Satan!" At Sam's frown, Dean amended his statement, "It's cardboard." He muttered, almost an afterthought.

"And…" Sam gestured for his brother to continue.

"And _it is evil_." Dean squeezed his hands together as if he were crushing an imaginary version of the box. "Every time I try to touch it—"

Sam smirked, going for the obvious answer, "Wait right there; I bet Bobby told you _specifically_ not to touch it, right?"

"Well…maybe…" Dean rolled his eyes, glaring through the windshield at the box as it was now sitting on the window ledge. "Look!" Dean shouted, pointing wildly at the offending little object, "It's watching us!"

Sam laughed, "I think there was a little something extra in those Girl Scout cookies you've been wolfing down." He got out of the car, glancing at the box that was sitting innocently in the window, "It's just a box, man."

Sam started toward the motel room door, but Dean blocked his way, putting his entire body between Sam and the door. "Sam, I'm warning you—"

"Dean, right now, we could be working on this case, so we could get back to finding out how to kill the Leviathans. So…If you don't let me through that door, I can't help you." Dean didn't budge, going so far as to cross his arms like a stubborn child. "Dude—" Sam began exasperatedly, "Just move!" Sam shoved his brother out of the doorway and slowly opened the door; Dean's eyes never left the box.

The room seemed normal. Normal being if the 70's era was personified, it threw up all over the room…Typical, though for the no-star-motel-hell that the brothers usually stayed in. It did smell oddly of burnt sugar, but nothing else was 'off' or out of place…except for the box. It was no longer in the windowsill. The offending brown cardboard box was now on the floor beneath the window. Almost like it was hiding. "I told you it moved!" Dean hissed defensively, still cowering outside of the door.

"Did you check the EMF?" Sam asked, eyes locked on the box.

"Did I check the—Of course I checked the freaking EMF! It was the first thing I did!" Dean said, inch by inch stepping cautiously into the room to eventually join his brother in front of the box.

"Uh huh…" Sam slowly knelt to the floor, extending a hand slowly, intending to touch the box.

"Dude! What the hell are you doing?" Dean slapped his brother's hand away before it reached the box.

"Yeah. You're definitely crazy…er…" Sam got to his feet, giving his brother his full attention, "It's just a box, Dean."

"But it—"

"Moves. Yes, I know."

"Well…don't touch it." Dean grabbed his brother's arm, giving the box a glare, "Poke it with a stick, or something."

Jerking his arm out of Dean's death grip, Sam snorted, "Whatever, man. Let's just call Bobby and ask him what's going on." As Sam took his phone from his pocket, he kept an eye on the box…just in case.

Suddenly, the box scooted to the left.

Sam's eyes widened, "Holy crap."

"I told you it moved." Dean said almost happily.

Both men spent the next few minutes staring at the box, waiting for another sign that they weren't crazy.

A tiny scuffling sound came from above the box, almost like it was on the counter… "Okay, that's it!" Dean went to his bed, taking the lamp from the nightstand and ripping it out of the wall with a few solid tugs.

A beat up old t-bird had just pulled up outside of the boys' motel room, but neither of the two brothers were paying attention to what was going on outside; they were too preoccupied with the box.

"I'm gonna waste this thing." With a glance at his brother, Dean asked, "That alright with you?"

Without taking his eyes from it, Sam muttered, "Go for it."

As Dean raised the lamp high above his head, preparing to smash the hell out of the box, the motel room door opened. Both the boys froze, turning to look at the intruder. Bobby. Of course it was Bobby.

"What the hell are you two idjits doing?"

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><p><strong>R&amp;R please.<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**"The Box"**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Summary: Bobby asks Dean to do a simple task: watch a cardboard box. How hard could it be? Well, it is Dean we're talking about… A short, three chapter ficlet.**

**A/N: Great response for this story (my first fanfic) so far! Thanks readers!**

* * *

><p>"Um…Is there a right answer to that?" Sam asked as Dean slowly lowered the lamp onto the counter.<p>

"No!" Bobby snapped, removing his trucker's cap and shutting the door a bit harder than necessary. Taking a closer look at the boys, Bobby chuckled, saying, "You two look scared out of your minds." Narrowing his eyes, he asked, "Did you open the box, Dean?"

"What? No!" Dean exclaimed incredulously, "Why would I do that?"

"Because you're _you_ and you can't not know!"

"Well I didn't! And neither did Sam! The damn thing keeps moving every time we even get close to it!" Dean said defensively, gesturing at the box.

"You look like an idjit! What are you doing? Dancing?" Bobby asked, eyebrows raised.

Sam was the first to catch on, "Can't you see the box?"

Bobby snorted, "Of course I can see the box! It's sitting right there on the counter." He gestured to the area near the window, where he'd put the box in the first place.

"No it's not. It's here." Dean made a circle with his hands over the box, "On the floor."

"Uh huh." Bobby said, expression unchanging…Then he suddenly burst into laughter, doubling over at the peals emanating from his middle. "Whoo! He got you suckers good!"

"What?" The boys asked at once, their confused expressions mirroring one another's.

"Just humor me." And then Bobby walked _right through the box._

"What the—" Dean began, turning to his brother, "Did you see that? Please tell me you saw that."

"Yup."

Bobby then reached over the counter, picking something that was rather invisible up and holding it out in front of him. "Do you see what I have?"

"What are you, a mime?" Dean asked, eyebrows raised.

"I'm holding the box that I brought you to **watch**. The one that I told you _specifically_ **not to touch.**" Bobby nodded until the two boys were nodding with him.

"So…there are two boxes?" Sam asked, still confused.

"No!" Bobby snapped, "There's only _one_ box. Focus, boys…I know that's difficult for you, but just do it…Inside of this box is a _gachnar_."

Squinting their eyes at the empty space between Bobby's hands, the boys took a tentative step forward. "Ah ha!" Dean exclaimed triumphantly, pointing to the invisible box that was slowly becoming visible, "I see it! I knew I wasn't crazy!"

"Contrary to popular opinion…" Sam muttered as he watched the box appear out of thin air. "Wait, what's a gachnar?"

"Finally, the sasquatch speaks; a gachnar is wee little fear demon. It can alter reality and cause hallucinations…kind of like if you mix Rufus's Johnny Walker Blue and a WooHoo, understand class?"

Dean laughed while Sam asked, "What's a WooHoo?"

Rolling his eyes, Bobby sat the box down onto the counter and took out his pocket knife, using the small blade to cut through the duct tape that was holding the flaps shut. Pinning the flaps down with his hands, Bobby whispered into the box, "Try anything and I'll pull your wings off and shove them down your throat." The Winchesters exchanged awkward glances as Bobby slowly opened the flaps of the box.

Peering over, the sight that the two men were met with was not what they were expecting to say the least.

A tiny, green skinned man, maybe four inches high at the most was standing with his hands on his hips at the bottom of the box, black wings fluttering defiantly. He wore a loin cloth and had two horns curving on the top of his head. The gachnar stared up at the men with silver eyes and smiled; a tiny double-forked tongue darted out from between two rows of fangs as it hissed at the brothers.

"He feeds off of your fear," Bobby shut the box, taking Dean's belt from off of the floor and using it to secure the flaps, "and it was his breath that was making you hallucinate."

"Great. Problem solved." Sam visibly relaxed as he sighed and glanced out the window, "I think I'm gonna head back to the library and finish up on the research before it gets dark."

Dean snickered, "Those dusty volumes calling your name?"

"Shut up." Sam said, taking the keys to the Impala and heading out before his brother could get another word in.

Afterwards, Bobby simply looked at Dean. "What?" Dean asked, squirming under his stare. No response. "What?" Dean asked again, feeling a bit creeped out.

"Nothing." Bobby laughed, clapping the younger man on the shoulder, "I'm gonna get rid of this thing; I'll be back in a few."

After Bobby left, Dean relaxed sitting back down onto the tie-dyed bed. All was well in the world. Sam was researching their latest case at the local library…or dogging after some librarians. Naw, he was probably researching. Bobby was getting rid of the fear demon-y thingy… Dean closed his eyes, "Finally some peace and quiet. No gachnar, no demons, no bo—"

Something brown and square in his peripheral vision as he closed his eyes made him start. It couldn't be. Could it?

Dean's eyes flew open and he sat straight up, gasping as he stared at the counter. The evil, brown, square, cardboard, spawn-of-Satan box stared right back.

"What the fu—"

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><p><strong>And so endeth the story.<br>**

**R&R please.**


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